


A Hunted Man Sometimes Wearies Of Distrust

by luulapants



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Criminal Peter Hale, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Exes, Humor, M/M, Past Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luulapants/pseuds/luulapants
Summary: Prompt fill: "Steter prompt: "Did you honestly think that would work on me?" I'm imagining cheesy pick-up lines or failed seduction attempts, something along those lines, maybe? Dunno lol, it's just the first thing that came into my head 😂"Stiles walks into a bar and sees a not entirely welcome face among the patrons.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 24
Kudos: 188





	A Hunted Man Sometimes Wearies Of Distrust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asarcasticwitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asarcasticwitch/gifts).



“Deputy,” the bartender greeted, tone stiff.

Stiles glanced down at himself and saw that his badge was still clipped to the front of his uniform shirt. He sighed, plucked it off, and tucked it into the front pocket. “I’m off-duty, Mike,” he assured the man, leaning his elbows on the bar.

Mike settled and stepped up to the opposite side. “Should I be worried that you’re coming here before you even go home from a shift?” he asked.

“Nah, worry not. I’ve got people coming over for the game tonight. Figured I’d pick up a few six packs on my way. You have that new lager canned yet?”

“As of yesterday.”

“Awesome. One of those, one of the IPA, one of the coffee stout.” Stiles shot him a grin. “We probably won’t need that much, but we’re up against the Saints tonight, so who knows.”

Mike disappeared into the back to get the cans, and Stiles let his tired eyes scan over the bar. It was a narrow place, hardly more than a covered-over alleyway with brick walls behind the aging wooden booths. This early in the evening, there weren’t too many patrons. A man and a woman in a booth that looked like they were on a first date. A couple of old-timer regulars sitting at the bar. In the far back corner, mostly hidden in shadow, a solitary man sat in a booth, his face turned away. The cut of his jaw and neck looked familiar, though. Stiles squinted at him. Then the man turned his head to the side, and rage immediately settled into his chest.

Stiles stormed over to the side of Peter’s booth. “No,” he said.

“Deputy Stilinski, what a pleasant surprise,” Peter replied coolly.

“No!” Stiles repeated. “Whatever you’re here for, I’m not having it. I have plans. Plans that do not involve –” He began counting items off on his fingers. “– finding dead bodies, fighting supernatural threats, foiling evil plans, or otherwise endangering myself and the citizens of this county.” He put his fists on his hips. “No. You get the hell out of my town.”

Peter rolled his eyes and took a long sip of what looked like whiskey. “I’m not up to anything, Stiles, and I don’t know why you would think I am.”

“Oh, so you _haven’t_ been leaving a wake of destruction in your path as you road trip across America?” Stiles slid into the booth across from him. He saw Mike at the bar out of the corner of his eye. He signaled that he needed a moment, then turned back to Peter. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you, Peter. I may not know exactly what brand of fucked-up shit you’re into these days, but I know that Beacon Hills wants no part of it.”

A long beat of silence followed. Peter took another drink, then set the glass down. His voice was soft and somber when it came. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to put all of that behind me.” He lifted his eyes to meet Stiles’s. “I’m coming home,” he said, and there was a haunted quality to his expression.

Stiles frowned. “Put all of what behind you?” he asked, because he really didn’t have an accurate picture of how Peter had been involved in the incidents in Tucson and Kansas City, the ones that had left bodies behind.

“Everything, I guess,” Peter said with a shrug. “I don’t know. How does a man decide in what order to abandon his life?”

The weight of those words caught Stiles by surprise, and for a moment he didn’t know how to respond. “Why?” is what he settled on, finally. “Did something happen?”

Peter shook his head. “Not… not anything in particular, no. But I’m tired, Stiles. I’m tired of fighting, tired of that car, being cold and eating the same goddamn road food every day.”

Something about the way he said it set off an uncertainty in Stiles’s mind, like the faintest tickle of a memory that he couldn’t quite place. “I didn’t figure you would give up so easily,” Stiles commented.

“I’m old, Stiles,” Peter told him. “I know I don’t look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel...” He paused, sighed, stared off in the distance. “...thin. Sort of stretched. Like butter scraped over too much bread.”

Stiles gaped at him.

“What?” Peter asked, frowning at his expression.

“Did you honestly think that would work on me?” Stiles demanded. “Dude, you just quoted _Lord of the Rings_. And I’m pretty sure the thing before was from _The Matrix_.”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, lifting his chin in a haughty expression. “So, I may have  _borrowed_ some sentiments – just some wording, really – from other sources. I’ve been living out of hotels, Stiles. I’ve been watching a lot of movies.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Stiles muttered. He got up from the table. Jabbing a finger at Peter’s face, he warned, “If I get even a _whiff_ of trouble from your direction, I will shoot your ass so full of wolfsbane, it’ll be smoking all the way to the state line, you got that?”

“That hurts my feelings,” Peter told him with a pout. “I thought we were closer than that.”

Stiles laughed and shook his head. “Oh, no.  _No_ . You and me?” He gestured between them rapidly. “That is  _so_ not happening again. Ever.”

Peter took a sip of his drink, murmuring, “We’ll see,” into the glass.

Scowling, Stiles headed back to the bar for his beer.

“Never nice running into an ex,” Mike commented as Stiles handed over his credit card.

“Shut up, Mike.”

**Author's Note:**

> Peter also slips a _No Country for Old Men_ quote in there. The title is another _Lord of the Rings_ quote.


End file.
